


Livewire

by vange



Category: Ex Machina
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-29
Updated: 2011-07-29
Packaged: 2017-10-21 22:28:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/230550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vange/pseuds/vange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Electrocuting himself on purpose is looking like a sexier idea everyday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Livewire

**Author's Note:**

> Contains irresponsible use of electrical sex toys.

There were days when Mitchell was glad he lived in the bad part of town. It was the days when he couldn't crawl out of bed, when the side of his face still throbbed under the bandages and the world was blurred through his one good eye. For some sick reason, those were the days when he was also horny as hell, like the accident had hit some switch in his brain that led to the discovery that he was a late bloomer masochist.

He felt like he was sleepwalking when he went out, slouching under his coat with the collar flipped up to minimize the staring. He knew he looked like a freaky pervert buying it, that he was going to sneak back to his apartment with his electrical play toys and maybe make creepy dolls of people. He tried to be a casual on the subway as much as possible, but the white bandages stuck out against his dark hair. People never looked directly, rather glanced out of the corner of their eyes. Occasionally, he would overhear one of them mentioning him on the cell phones and be tempted to twist the machine into doing nothing but playing annoying music in the middle of the night. When he got home there were bangs coming from upstairs and yelling down on the streets. Nobody would notice any noise he made at all.

The idea had come to him in his dreams. They showed him sleek city streets paved with steal, chrome building glistening in the sun. He seemed to float above the city and suddenly see so clearly where all the problems were, how every little inch of all of New York was his to do with however he felt fit. There were plans, schematic designs blue and white and circuitry lit up in green. All this would come to him but then the dreams would twist, to the happy citizens or the scheming monsters or sometimes the circuitry itself lifted him up and wrapped around him like a lover, wanting to share itself with cold lightning. He also woke up with a jolt, like being pierced by lightning.

He remembered what the demon had said on Halloween night, "If you build it, you will come." Mitchell wasn't quite ready to risk his genitals on homemade electrical toys so with his blinds closed he got to work unpacking the nondescript boxes from the plain brown bags that looked even guiltier than if they had been labeled "deviant sex." The mechanics of assembly were completely lacking in any sort of eroticism. Electrode, low profile connection, slot a, tab b, power box, and wires. Batteries, lube, and a deep breath while sliding the silicon ring onto his cock. His hands were shaking as he hooked up the leads. He could hear the power barely restrained, waiting to lash out a grab him.

Mitchell laid back on his bed, gripping the covers and trying to steady his breathing. He was in control here. It wasn't like the screaming still filtering in from the roof and floor and windows and doors, this was a voice that answered to him. He reached down and tentatively stroked his erection. Even his delicate touch felt like too much, for weeks he hadn't had enough control to do anything but rub off against pillows and couches and anything he could get in a machine fueled daze.

Still holding himself steady, he braced himself and finally spoke. Starting with the lowest buzzing shock was only enough to tease but turning it up pulled a primal scream out of him. There were flashes of green behind his eyes as waves of power caressed him, shaking his legs and hips. His heart was racing and it felt like his orgasm was lasting forever and it was fucking time this freakish thing was worth a damn.

He came to with a raw throat at a pounding on his front door. Someone was shouting through it for him to shut the fuck up he was too tired to care. Anyway, his screaming had apparently knocked out all the electricity in the building. He fumbled himself free of the wires and covers that were chafing his oversensitive skin to curl on his side and fall in a blessed, silent sleep.


End file.
